


common cold

by Anonymous



Series: bad things happen bingo [3]
Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Anxiety, Common Cold, Foiled Confessions, M/M, Pining, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:54:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22876624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: jt has a cold. dani is too tired to go check on him. malcolm volunteers to go instead.written for bad things happen bingo square N4 - common cold
Relationships: Malcolm Bright & JT Tarmel, Malcolm Bright/JT Tarmel
Series: bad things happen bingo [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1633324
Kudos: 30
Collections: Anonymous





	common cold

Dani was dragging her feet beside Malcolm as she squinted and poked at her phone. She grumbled something under her breath that Malcolm couldn't quite catch, then groaned softly and thumped her head against the wall as they waited for the elevator. 

"What's wrong?" he asked, curious and a little concerned. Dani was probably the only person he could truly call his friend. Edrissa might get there one day, maybe, but Dani? Dani was it for him. And she didn't ever expect anything from him - other than what a reasonable friend might expect, or so he'd been reliably informed. He had also learned, though, that friendships required maintenance. Asking questions at clear signs of distress such as the ones Dani was currently displaying was expected and, probably, welcome. 

"I'm tired," she said with a soft sigh. "We can't all go three days without sleep like you can." She lifted an eyebrow at him as if she expected him to contradict or challenge her in some way. He raised both hands in surrender. He was perfectly aware of how terrible and unhealthy his sleeping habits were. He did  _ try  _ to sleep. Most nights. "Anyway, I caught a twenty minute nap like, yesterday, I think, and that's been the only thing keeping me going. I'm ready to fall in bed and not move for a few days."

"But something else needs your attention first," Malcolm deduced. He narrowed his eyes at her as he studied her. "You don't have a current significant other, not since the last one broke up with you - likely because of the schedule you keep for work. You keep checking your phone, so clearly you're going to go see someone. This person is also important to you, otherwise you'd reschedule. Or maybe there's some reason it has to be done right away? There was no way you could know when we'd be wrapped up here, not exactly, so it can't be an appointment." He hummed as he thought about it. "You are going to go see JT and check in on him and see how he's doing before you go home. You're worried about him and you're going to take him something. Soup, probably, because that's usually what sick people eat." 

Gil had sent JT home two days ago. His fever had been very high, and he'd been sneezing and coughing all over everything. Malcolm knew he'd probably get sick, later, even with all the hand-washing he'd done. His immune system really just wasn't strong enough to fight off things like it should, not when he never slept or ate like he should. He also knew it was entirely his own fault. He resolved to pick up some good cold remedy tea before he went home. 

And then he got an idea. 

"What if I go?" he offered. Dani looked at him like he'd grown a second head. That was fair. Malcolm didn't  _ do things  _ for people. Not because he didn't want to, of course, but because he'd been taught to stop doing them. He'd been walked all over and used and taken advantage of all through school and university. A little in Quantico, too. It had been one of his professors who'd noticed, who'd taught him to use the things he saw in people for his own benefit as well as the benefit of others. He learned to  _ stop offering  _ things, to stop agreeing to things, to learn how to say no. It had been… a hard lesson. But he felt okay about offering this to Dani. She was his friend. She had never tried to use him. She hadn't complained so he would offer to do it, and she wouldn't take advantage of his kindness. He trusted that about her. 

"Are - are you sure?" She hesitated and bit her lip. "I'd never agree to this if I wasn't about to fall over from how tired I am, but I'm gonna have to take a cab home as it is. I can't drive like this." 

Malcolm understood that cabs were expensive on a detective's salary in New York City. Even detectives working in Major Crimes. For her to take a cab out to JT's house and then to her own? That would double, if not triple, the rate. 

He smiled. "It's not a problem. I get it, trust me. I can go a lot longer without sleep and still function reasonably well. Probably at least another day before the hallucinations start." He smiled, hoping it was reassuring, guessed by Dani's expression that he'd missed the mark again, and let it fade. "Anyway, it's fine. I don't mind, and I kind of owe him one anyway. He helped me out with the migraine, remember?"

"Yeah," Dani said, nodding. The elevator dinged and the doors opened. They waited a beat for three people to leave the car and they stepped inside. "Yeah, thanks. I appreciate it, Bright." She rubbed at her forehead for a moment, then looked at him again. "Would you mind getting him some soup or something? I'm not really sure what kind he might want, but I was gonna stop on my way over there."

"Sure," Malcolm said easily, already digging though Maps to try and find something that sounded good. They both left the elevator, but he hesitated before he split off in a different direction. "Could you, um, not tell him I'm coming? I don't want him to tell me not to show up." He looked at the floor, a little ashamed. 

JT was probably the one person who could tell him what to do and actually get him to listen. And JT had no idea. It was better that way, really. He didn't need to know about Malcolm's ridiculous crush or that Malcolm wanted to do anything and everything to make JT like him. That wasn't healthy. He knew that. And he knew how to say no. And today wasn't about that at all. Today was about repaying a favor. JT had been there to help him with his migraine. He'd helped with the panic attack last week, too, but JT had been very clear about that  _ not _ being something Malcolm owed him for. Surely that meant Malcolm  _ did _ owe him for the few hours spent in the dark silence and the never ending supply of ice packs. Right? He just didn't know. That was always the problem. 

Dani smiled, sort of. "Sure, Bright. I won't."

"Thanks." He waved and turned to leave, attention on his phone again already. He wasn't sure what sort of soup JT might like, and that posed a potential problem. Chicken soup was the classic for most sick people, and while Malcolm didn’t  _ think _ JT had any food allergies, he wasn’t positive. He tapped his phone against his chin as he waited for his Uber at the curb. Maybe tomato soup? That was a good option, too, right? Even  _ he _ could eat tomato soup, and he was allergic to most things. He googled for a place to get some soup - and maybe a grilled cheese, because grilled cheese was delicious - and found one that was on the way to JT’s apartment in Chelsea. He added the stop to his trip and climbed into the back of the Uber that pulled up next. 

It didn’t take long to place an order at the cafe thanks to an app, and he found himself grateful he didn’t have to deal with anyone else today. He’d probably just word-vomit all over them and possibly give them the cold he was pretty sure he’d already gotten from JT. He fiddled with his phone during the drive and wished vaguely for something to distract him. They’d just finished the case, though, and despite this being New York, he very much doubted Gil had another one already. 

He sighed quietly to himself. This little crush of his was a problem that he wasn’t sure how to handle. He’d had other crushes on other coworkers, sure, but those had been fleeting. With JT, it was different. It  _ felt  _ different. He couldn’t even come up with a reason for it, not really. JT wasn’t necessarily better looking or even a better person. He wasn’t nicer, either. Malcolm had had a lot of experiences with a lot of different people. But JT was different,  _ good  _ different, and Malcolm might not have been able to explain why with his over-tired brain, but he couldn’t deny it, either. Maybe he should just admit it to JT and figure out where to go from there... JT would probably not appreciate it, but Malcolm didn't like beating around the bush or subtlety - anyone who knew him could tell you that. He liked direct action. It felt like the right thing to do, admitting how he was feeling to JT. He just had to figure out how. He wasn't always that great with his words, and he did want a positive result, after all.

Once he’d grabbed the soup from the cafe, the Uber took him to JT’s apartment. His anxiety spiked as they got closer and closer. He wasn’t sure JT would want to see him, would let him in the door, would  _ answer _ the door at all. He grimaced and rubbed at the center of his chest. It was work to focus on breathing, to prevent himself from spiraling into a worse anxiety attack, but he could say he was making an honest effort. 

When the car stopped and he stepped out on the sidewalk with the bag in his hand, he felt nauseous and inexplicably afraid. 

At the buzzer, he found JT’s last name and pressed for a long second, then waited. He didn’t press again right away. He figured JT would need a moment to get to the buzzer and let him in because he was sick. He bounced on his toes, chewing on his lip for a long moment, then pressed the buzzer again. He reached up for a third time, ready to press the button again, when he heard the hiss and crackle of the speaker.

“What do you  _ want _ ?” JT snapped, sounding distorted and stuffy. 

“Hey, JT,” Malcolm said, his voice shaky and probably a little too quiet. “It’s, ah, Malcolm.” He hesitated, his breath catching somewhere in the tightness in his chest. “I brought soup?” He winced at the too-high pitch and the awkwardness. 

The speaker clicked off, and Malcolm’s heart plummeted straight to his feet. He looked down at the soup and sandwich in the bag in his hand and wondered, vaguely, what the hell he was supposed to do with it now. 

But then the door clicked, and Malcolm’s instinct had him grabbing it and opening it before it could lock once more. He frowned at the buzzer panel, confused, but he didn’t step back outside to ask. He headed deeper into the building and found an elevator and made his way up to JT’s floor. 

He was practically vibrating out of his skin by the time he got to JT’s door. It opened right about the time he raised his hand to knock. JT was wearing flannel pants and an old Army tee shirt. His nose was red and he still had a tissue in one hand. “Man, what the hell are you doing here?”

“Dani was going to come,” Malcolm said, holding out the bag as a measure of defense. “But she was exhausted. She couldn’t even drive herself home. So I offered, instead.” He tried for a smile, but he was pretty sure it didn’t come out right. He wiggled the bag a little so JT would take it. “I brought soup. I didn’t know what kind you’d like, so I got tomato and a grilled cheese for you.” 

JT just stood there and stared at him for a long moment. “Five minutes,” JT finally grunted, holding the door open a little wider and stepping to the side for Malcolm to enter. 

Part of Malcolm was glad JT had invited him in at all. Another part of him was disappointed that he hadn’t been asked to stay a little longer. He knew JT probably felt terrible and didn’t really want company, but he couldn’t help but feel wholly unwelcome. A part of him wished he hadn’t come, wished he’d just offered to pay for a car for Dani instead. He walked inside just enough for JT to shut the door, still holding the bag, but he kept his eyes on the floor. It didn’t matter that he wanted to look around and psycho-analyze JT based on what he had around his house, he knew JT wouldnt’t appreciate it, and he couldn’t stop himself if he looked - maybe this had been a bad idea. Scratch that. It had _definitely_ been a bad idea. 

“Sorry,” Malcolm said quietly as JT took the bag from him. 

“It’s fine,” JT mumbled. “Just - wish I’d had some warning, is all. I don’t feel good, and, you know. This is my  _ home _ , man.”

Malcolm bit back all his comments on vulnerability and perceived weaknesses and forced a smile instead. “It’s fine, I understand. I should have sent a text. Anyway. Here.” He held out the bag again. “Dani was worried, and she was planning on bringing some for you, so I figured I’d just… do it for her.” He finished lamely with his forced smile becoming more and more like a grimace by the second. He'd been worried too, but he felt like JT wouldn't appreciate his mentioning that. He felt like JT wouldn't appreciate much of anything, at the moment, other than Malcolm leaving him alone. “I wasn’t sure if you had any food allergies or sensitivities or anything like that, so if you can’t eat it, I’m sorry.”   


“No, it’s fine, thanks,” JT said, peering into the bag. “Damn, this is swanky. This is from that one pricey place in Midtown, isn’t it?”

Malcolm shrugged and nodded. “It was the one with the best reviews for tomato soup and grilled cheese.” Even if wasn't sure JT would appreciate the gesture, he was sure to get whatever tasted the best. What was the point in getting the food, otherwise? It was comfort food, it was supposed to taste good and make people feel better. 

“Well, I appreciate it. I’m just - you know. Grouchy and shit because I don’t feel good and I’m tired.” 

Malcolm debated the advisability of offering a real cop any variety of the drugs he had access to either because he had them at home because he’d had prescriptions for them or through his mother and then decided against it. He didn’t want to give Gil a reason to drug test him and attempt to figure out which drugs he was on because he was supposed to be and which he was on just because he knew they helped. It wasn’t worth the headache. 

“Sure, I’ll get out of your hair, then.” He turned on his heel, and while looking at the floor and nowhere else, he went back to the door. He didn’t wait for a farewell from JT, figured he wouldn’t get one, and just opened the door and slipped outside. He pressed his back to the door and let his head fall back against the wood as he stared up at the ceiling. “Christ, why couldn't I just admit that I like you before I left?” he murmured to himself. "Too late now." He was disappointed in himself, but that was nothing new. He made a frustrated sound. 

He shook his head and pushed away from the door, then headed back out of the building, calling up a private car on his way. He didn’t want to deal with a potentially chatty Uber driver, and at least the car service drivers were always polite and mercifully quiet. He wanted to go home and pout to Sunshine. He figured he deserved that. Maybe he could get some of his own comfort food.


End file.
